


The Burden of Leadership

by SteelLily



Series: The Holiday Girls [2]
Category: Wonder Woman (2017)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-16 23:40:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14175879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SteelLily/pseuds/SteelLily
Summary: This is kind of a one shot side shot from the main story that MAY lead to a second story that has been floating around in my head since finishing The Holiday Girls. It takes place a year after the end of The Holiday Girls.Tumblr Prompt from Cassiopeiasara: "You're being too hard on yourself."





	The Burden of Leadership

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cassiopeiasara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassiopeiasara/gifts).



Etta sat at her desk in her London office. Her shoulders shook slightly from the tears she tried desperately to keep at bay. The newspaper crumpled as she balled her hand into a fist around the obituary. The knock at her door was faint. She barely registered it around the accusations screaming in her head. It was not until Diana cleared her throat that Etta even bothered to look up. Only two people would walk into her office without clear verbal permission for entry and both were aware of Jennifer’s death.

The gentle smile on Diana’s lips elicited deep wracking sobs from Etta as Diana knelt beside her and wrapped her arms around Etta’s shoulders. “My Etta, I am so sorry,” Diana kissed the side of Etta’s head.

Etta sat up and wiped the tears from her cheeks with her fingers. She smiled at Diana who kissed Etta’s forehead before pulling up a chair next to her. Diana took the paper from Etta’s desk and smoothed down the pages. Her fingers traced circles along Etta’s back as she read the words of Jennifer Bates’ obituary:

Jennifer Bates (1897-1920) was the daughter of Henry and Gladys Bates, and sister to Henry Jr. and Edward Bates. Jennifer served in His Majesty’s Royal Air Force during the Great War. Services will be held on Saturday, 27 March 1920 at St. James’ in Piccadilly at 2pm.

“This is not your fault,” Diana said as she sat the paper back on the desk.

Etta stared down at the paper biting her lip. She sighed, “I had reservations about that mission, Diana.”

Diana’s hand stilled on Etta’s back. The warmth radiated through Etta’s uniform. It would have been comforting if she had wanted comfort. It felt, however, like a weight on her reminding her of her shortcomings. Diana stopped an entire war nearly on her own and Etta failed to keep one of her girls safe. Etta swallowed. “You are being far too hard on yourself, my Etta,” Diana continued.

“I actually think quite the opposite,” Etta replied as she pulled a manila folder toward her, “If my girls cannot trust me to fight for them on this end, they cannot trust that the missions they go on are within their capacity to handle. They will second guess themselves. It will get more of them killed. I have to do better.”

Etta’s gray eyes grew hard. The tears still welling gave them a look of steel. Diana’s heart ached for Etta. Diana ran her fingers over the braid she did for Etta that morning. “What will you do?” Diana asked.

“I will confront the generals, I suppose. Tell them I have unilateral veto power over the missions,” Etta sighed, “I doubt it will do much good but, I must do something. Perhaps I should go into the field myself. Michaela knows enough to keep the office running smoothly in my absence.”

Michaela was the secretary Etta hired to keep the day to day operations of the office running smoothly and the only other person allowed to enter her office whenever she liked. Diana stiffened at the prospect of Etta taking on her more dangerous missions. She knew the woman was more than capable but the idea of Etta being in harm’s way hurt Diana in ways she had not felt since Steve. Etta watched Diana shut down. It happened less often recently but she recognized it as her remembering something about Steve Trevor. “I cannot lose you too, Etta. My heart would not survive it,” Diana admitted in a quiet, small voice.

Etta wrapped her hand around Diana’s where it lay on Etta’s desk. She drew it to her lips and laid a kiss against Diana’s palm. “I cannot ask more of my girls than I am willing to risk myself. You know that better than anyone,” she released Diana’s hand then pushed the folder toward Diana, “I have a potential recruit. I’d like it if you would come with me to meet her.”

Diana opened the folder and stared at the photo of the blonde woman with thick black rimmed glasses, “Dr. Harleen Quinzel?”

Etta nodded, “She punched Sigmund Freud in the face. Seems like the kind of woman we could use. Ivy found her in Austria. She’s an American.”


End file.
